


So Give Me Coffee and Puppies

by OlivesBadDreams



Category: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Genderqueer Harding, I reject your movie Harding and substitute my own, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Other, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2129079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesBadDreams/pseuds/OlivesBadDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of his mandated community service, McMurphy visits patient Billy Bibbit.  On one of their fieldtrips, they stop by The Roost – a coffee shop and café owned by Harding and Vera.  //  A Cuckoo AU for Tumblr’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest summer gift exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Give Me Coffee and Puppies

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for @danceofthenorthernlights for the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest gift exchange. A modern + relatively lighter AU that includes a coffee shop & puppies. 
> 
> The prompt of staying happy was hard for me… because I am a horrible person. :D & whoops the set-up is a TAD dark-ish… but I stay true to what the title implies. Most of the time. 
> 
> If you squint really hard, the title is a Blur reference. Don’t hurt yourself now.

“Mr. Randle P. McMurphy?”

“Now Doris-”

“ _Dolores_ , Mr. McMurphy,” the nurse gently reminded him.

“Now that’s right.”  He threw her a sly grin and put one of his callused hands on the countertop.  “But we’ve been over this.  There’s no need to be so formal.  What is this, the eighth time I’ve come by to say hello?”

“Seventh,” she reminded him again.  

He tipped his sun-bleached and frayed cap to her, “My mistake, _Dolores._  But what I’m getting at is that there’s no need to be all formal with your boy Randle.  Call me McMurphy, if you would so please.  Mack, if you want.  Hell, even Randy.  Never _Mr._ McMurphy.”

But the nurse shook her head.  “My job requires me to follow protocol, _Mr. McMurphy_.”  The woman’s tightly coiled black hair bounced as she looked both ways before whispering, “But it’s always a pleasure to see you, Mack.”

“That’s more like it, Dolores.”  The sly grin grew even bigger.  “You look mighty beautiful today, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

She blushed, “I don’t mind… but I’m not sure the other nurses and aides would be happy with your flirtatious tone.”  She pointed to the counter, “And I’ll have to ask you to put your hands away, Mack.”

“My, my.  Now where are my manners?”  He chuckled and put both his hands in his jean pockets.  

“And that’s the _thirteenth_ time I’ve had to remind you of that,” Dolores shook her finger at him playfully.  “And if you don’t mind me saying, you’re rather early today, Mack.  Usually you don’t get here until after noon.”

“Thought I’d surprise everyone bright an’ early, 8 o’clock sharp.”  McMurphy outstretched his wingspan and yawned.  “But let’s get straight to business, shall we?  How’s my favorite patient doin’ today?  Is he ready?  I have a whole a-genda planned out right here.”  He tapped a small notebook that was nestled in his chest pocket.  “Three whole hours of fun for the whole family.”

Dolores’ bright magenta lips, the same color as her fingertips, curled into a frown.  “You know that Mr. Bibbit has been making some great strides - especially when he’s placed in your care.”

McMurphy sucked in his breath, tasting the sanitary lemon flavor of the ward all in one gulp, “What’s happened?”

“Only a minor incident… but it’s been the first in a while.  Naturally, the entire ward is being precautious.  And to be entirely honest with you… I’m not sure if he’s going to be cleared to leave today.”

“Now Nurse Dolores-”

“Don’t _‘now Nurse Dolores’_ me, _Mr._ McMurphy; you know I’m not in charge here.  We don’t want him to be set off by anything too traumatic.”

“But you _know_ how he is with me!”  McMurphy stomped hard, hoping to leave a mark on the perfectly gleaming sea green floor.  “Damnit you _know_ me, Dolores!”

“ **I** do…”  She hushed her voice again, “But the nurses and aides like to talk.  Some of them don’t believe the ‘act’ they think you’re putting on.”

“What act?  And who told you this?”  McMurphy puffed his chest out in defense of himself.  

“You know Mr. Bromden?  The custodian that comes in to work the graveyard shift?  Of course you do, but before he cleans the floor, he checks in to this station.  There’s the shift change and all the girls congregate in here and naturally let off some steam about the day.  He’s told me that you’re the topic of conversation a lot more than you’d think.”

“This is ridiculous… but it’s not like that Bromden to lie, God bless him.  By the way, how is that big fella doing?”

“He could be better off.  His family’s in the middle of that dispute over land rights.”  Dolores looked both ways, checking to see if the hallway was clear.  When it was, she leaned in as close as she could to McMurphy’s ear before hissing nastily, “They’re doing them so dirty… _and they’re going to get away with it_.”

McMurphy shook his head in disgust, and hoped to hell that he hadn’t scuffed the floors now.  “I’ll swing by ol’ Big Chief’s place right after my time with Billy.  And I **hope** to get that time, Dolores.”

She took a sip of her steaming tea, leaving large stains of pink behind on the cool blue surface.  “The others… they aren’t particularly impressed with your conduct.”

“Did I ruffle a few feathers on the board?”  McMurphy howled at his comment, placing his hands on the counter to brace himself.

“I mean it, Mack.”  She shooed his hands off the counter with her nails.  “They think you chose this as your community service because it beats picking up trash on the side of the road.  They think you don’t respect the Ward and the people in it.”

“Well it _is_ easier than picking up trash, I must say.”  He scratched his scarred nose and chuckled again.  But he stopped his chuckling when he saw Dolores’ stern look across her pretty face.  “But I’m not here for that, you know that.”

She sighed, “I know.”

“You know the first words I said to the Ward when they introduced me?”

Dolores reached into her purse, “No, I don’t think I was here for that.”

_“You boys don’t look so crazy to me.”_ McMurphy let out another hearty howl of a laugh.  “You should’ve seen the look on that Nurse Ratched’s face after that one.  She was about ready to throw me out for ‘disturbing the peace of the Ward.’  I’ve never seen a woman with a larger stick up her-” McMurphy stopped again when the stern look on Dolores’ face grew even sterner.  “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”

“I don’t particularly like her either,” Dolores paused to re-apply another coat of magenta gloss to her lips, “But she runs a sturdy ship and I have to respect her for that.  Our patients here are attended to very well.  And that’s why what happened with Billy was so shocking, to everyone.  The Ward had gone so long without any self-inflicted…”  She heaved a heavy sigh.  “Thankfully, it was very small.”

McMurphy pulled his cap down further over his eyes.  “That’s… good.”  He chuckled and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, “The first time I saw that boy… I just knew I had to help him.  He’s like one of those puppies in the window; you just wanna take them home and give them as much attention as they deserve.  I know some of the other guys swear he’s a rabbit, but under all that curly hair of his, he looks just like a puppy.  Heh, and you should’ve seen his face when he found out he’d be spendin’ time with me for a while.  If the boy had a tail, it would’ve been waggin’ at the speed of light, I’ll tell you that.  His whole face lit up - like when you come home from a long day of work and your dog just sprints for you at the door.  It was just like that.”  He shook his head.  “I’m a thick-skinned guy, Dolores; it’s rare for something to get under my skin.  But questioning my intent with the kid… that takes the cake.  That does it.  That assumption is something I cannot goddamn **_stand_**.”

 

***

 

“Are you sure you’re up for it?”  

“Y-yes.  Absolutely.  I huh-ha-haven’t seen him in tuh-two weeks.”  Billy was rushing to pull a knitted sweater over his head.  It had been a gift to him from Dolores, the nice nurse at the front.  But he just couldn’t seem to place his arms in the right spot.

Nurse Ratched sighed at Billy’s struggling and at the commotion McMurphy was probably causing outside.  “Very well now, Mr. Bibbit.  But I promised your family that you would always be in the best of care.  I don’t agree with that McMurphy.”

“Buh-but Ms. Ratched!  He’s my big brother now!  He’s f-family too.”

Her funny orange lips pursed tight to protest that statement, but then relaxed.  “We just want you to recover, Mr. Bibbit.  We all want what’s best for you.”

“I know.”  Billy smoothed out the wrinkles in his sweater.  Dolores had knitted this just for him.  And she managed to match it with the color of his eyes.

“If he takes you anywhere you don’t want to go, you can call us and we’ll bring you right back.  If you need someone else to go with you today, just to supervise, we can do that.  All we want is for you to feel safe and secure.”

“I’ll be fuh-fine.”

She mentioned for him to follow her out the door.  She muttered under her breath, “I hope so.”

 

***

 

Nurse Ratched marched down the hall with Billy close behind her.  McMurphy felt every one of her footfalls in his gut.  She certainly knew how to command a room.  And she certainly knew how to fill one.  He scratched his nose to cover the smirk he had on his face.  He was surprised the Big Nurse could squeeze through the doorway with all of those curves.

Once she finally arrived in the lobby, she turned to McMurphy and nodded her head, politely, and then turned to Nurse Dolores.  “Please sign Mr. Bibbit out for his allotted three hours with Mr. McMurphy.”

Dolores reached for a pink pen to sign the necessary paperwork.

Nurse Ratched clucked with disapproval.  “Black or blue, Dolores.”  Once she saw that Dolores had obeyed, she turned to McMurphy again.  “I’d like to see where you’re taking Mr. Bibbit.”

“Now I have it all planned out right here.  A full i-tin-er-ary with the works.”  He took out the pocketbook and opened to the dog-eared page.  “I’d figure a nice time of bowling and beer-”

_“Absolutely not.”_  Nurse Ratched closed the book firmly with a loud crack.  The crack stung McMurphy so hard, he swore that she had a whip in that wicker bag of hers.  “Mr. Bibbit should not be physically exerting himself.  I say you start with your first item on your list and throw the rest of your so-called ‘ideas’ away.”

“The coffee shop?”

“That’s exactly what kind of relaxing activity Mr. Bibbit should be exposed to.  None of your bowling and beer, fast cars and fast girls sort of nonsense you’re feeding to him.”  Nurse Ratched handed the book back to McMurphy gently, delicately dropping it back into his callused and dirtied hands.  But he felt the book boiling from her touch, scorching into his skin.  “That lifestyle is destructive, and the LAST thing Mr. Bibbit needs.”  He wished she had thrown the book back at him instead.

“I can assure you, _ma’am_ ,” McMurphy puffed his chest out before he continued to speak. “The last thing I would EVER teach to Billy is a destructive lifestyle.”  But his chest deflated as he admitted, “He’s already lived one most of his life.”

Nurse Ratched’s face softened and her tone defrosted.  “I see.”  She rested her gaze on Billy.  “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Bibbit.”

Billy’s face lit up at Nurse Ratched’s permission for them to leave.  “Th-thank you so much.”

After the two of them had left, and the door had completely closed behind them, Nurse Ratched turned to the counter and tapped her fingers against it.  They clicked with a click that was almost a sizzle, “Maybe I was wrong about him after all.”

Nurse Dolores could have answered her statement, asserted that the Big Nurse HAD been wrong, but she settled on sipping her tea instead.

 

***

 

Once they were outside the Ward, and outside Nurse Ratched’s grasp, McMurphy gave Billy a near bone-crushing hug.  “How’ve you been, buddy?  And where did you get that grandma sweater from?”

Billy pouted, “It’s from Duh-Dolores.  I thought y-y-you’d like it.”

“What, and she didn’t make one for me?  Well I’ll let it slide… for now.”  McMurphy ruffled Billy’s curls affectionately.  “You’re still sportin’ that undercut?  Any girls from the female ward compliment you yet?”

“Nuh-now brother… you know Nurse Ratched keeps our interactions to a min-minimal.”  But Billy gave McMurphy a smirk, “For my own good, you know.”

“Well it suits you.  You have a nice hipster look about you.  You even got them tight jeans on.  Maybe we should run back inside the Ward, nab ol’ Big Nurse’s wicker purse and find you a scarf.  Maybe get some of those big obnoxious glasses too.  You’ll be perfect for the coffee shop crowd.”

Billy blushed, “Now… I wouldn’t say that, Mack.”

“I’m sure!  The girls with their noses pushed in those big books love the - oh what’s the word they use?  Aesthetics?  Yeah that’s it, the _aesthetic_ you’re giving off.”  McMurphy opened the passenger door to a truck with a paint job as frayed and peeling as his baseball cap.  “You’re a lot more handsome than you give yourself credit for, ya hear?”

“Sure.”  Billy was just about scarlet.  He folded his hands together and placed them on his lap.  “If-if you say so.”

“Well I KEEP a-sayin’ so because it’s the damn truth.”  McMurphy got in on his side and slammed the door shut.  “What in the HELL are we supposed to do that’s relaxing for three hours?  I ain’t the type of fool that can stay in a coffee shop until it closes.  And I don’t want you to get into more trouble as it is.”

“We can f-figure it out as it goes along?” Billy meekly suggested.  “I’m just ha-happy she let me out.”

McMurphy ignited the car and let the old motor run.  There was an uncomfortable pause between them as the machine hummed.  Finally, McMurphy wet his lips and said, in a voice that sounded much too soft to be his own, “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, you don’t have to.”

Billy shook his head, “It’s not as b-bad as they’re making it out to b-be.”  Billy rolled his left sleeve up and showed McMurphy a bandaged cut.  “See?  It’s tiny.”

But McMurphy couldn’t bring himself to actually look at it.  He nodded and adjusted his hat.  “Oh yeah?  That’s an ant of a cut if I ever did see one.”  He shivered after saying _cut_.  He shivered as he thought back to the first few times he had seen Billy, bandages all up and down his…  “You can put that sucker away now,” he almost ordered the man, which McMurphy immediately regretted.

But Billy didn’t sense any resentment from the order.  “I knew you’d understand.”  He smiled and rolled his sleeve back down.

“Well enough about all that.”  He could talk to Billy about anything, even _that_ , but… it was still hard for him.  Even after all those weeks, McMurphy’s throat would close and his words would falter.  “My job is to help you forget that; to get you to relax, and enjoy yourself - doctor’s orders.”  McMurphy pulled out of the driveway.  “Well as per the _Nurse’s_ orders, we’ll be going to that coffee shop.  It’s not a Starbucks, mind you; this is the real deal.  This is a mom an’ pop joint where they make everything from scratch.  Now like I said, I’ve heard some of the hipster crowd frequent there.”  McMurphy grinned and beat his steering wheel in glee, “My god, we can still make this a good time if we run into some quality ladies.  How does that sound, buddy?  I swear to get you a gal pal by the end of this outing.”

Billy pulled his sweater up his face to cover his reddening flesh.  “Sounds gr-great, Mack.”

“I think this place is called ‘The Hen’ or ‘The Rooster’ or somethin’.”  McMurphy shook his head and swatted his steering wheel again, “What kind of coffee-making establishment is named after some goddamn chickens?”

 

***

 

The place was actually called ‘The Roost.’  When McMurphy stepped out of his truck he expected the place to look a bit more… farm-like?  Maybe even have a Little House on the Prairie feel?  But there weren’t baskets of flowers underneath the windows; there weren’t touches of brick or hay or red anywhere.  He wasn’t great with colors, but the outside walls might be considered beige.  And he wasn’t great with art, but the look might be considered minimalist.

The chicken inspiration didn’t hit McMurphy until they opened the door and walked inside.  All of the walls were black, with chalk outlining all the menu items and cute little chicken drawings scattered everywhere.   Normally Billy would have felt stifled in such an environment – with darkness closing in on him from all sides – but the place was very well lit.  And there were wooden benches with comfortable pillows and what looked like a stuffed chick in the far back corner.

McMurphy turned to Billy, a slightly concerned look on his face, “You don’t see anyone around here, do ya?”

“N-n-no.  But they have to be in here since… we got in.”  Billy clenched his hands into fists.  “Sh-should we go somewhere else?”

McMurphy marched closer to the counter and gazed up at the wall of chalk.  “Nah.  They’re probably still opening.  I’ll give them some time.  Remember, we have three whole hours to kill.”

No sooner than McMurphy had said “kill,” they heard some rustling in the back.  The clanging of cups and plates echoed into the empty seating area.  And McMurphy could have sworn that people were talking, but what were they saying?

“ _They_ , today?”  It sounded like a woman, and judging from her voice, she sounded very beautiful.  Of course McMurphy had assumed wrong playing this game before [some ladies didn’t live up to the reputation of their voices after all], but he felt that he could place his bets on this one.  

“No, dearest.   _He._ ”  This… well McMurphy didn’t know _who_ the hell could sound like that.  It was a light and airy voice.  And _he_ didn’t exactly sound what McMurphy was expecting.  McMurphy couldn’t help but laugh; if there was a fan, it might blow the poor gentleman’s voice away.  “And thank you for asking.”

The source of the second voice walked out from the back with a large grin on his face.  And whoever the hell _he_ was, he was very pretty.  McMurphy thought he had seen some dainty shoulders in his time [one of those men was standing right next to him in Dolores’ sweater], but this guy took the cake.  And draped on that slender frame was a _very_ fitted cream shirt, with black stars lining his shoulders and a black collar to match.  His brown hair was parted down the middle, with hair going every which direction in a mess, but a contained mess nonetheless.  His eyebrows were meticulously groomed and he had a hint of eyeliner on his eyes, and perhaps even some blush outlining cheekbones McMurphy had never seen the likes of before.

The pretty fellow smiled, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the two of you here before.  And in that case: welcome, friends!  I’m surprised some of our regulars didn’t beat you to the chase, but I’m honored you could be here with us this fine morning.  What can I get for you today?”

McMurphy grinned back to match the man’s smile, “Now see here – we have three hours to kill and we have to kill them _all_ in this lovely establishment right here.  I’m not too hungry or thirsty just yet, so do you mind if we just have some conversation?  Until some other people show up and you can attend to them, of course.”

“I don’t see why not.”  But McMurphy could tell that the man’s mind was racing to other conclusions.

McMurphy took off the fading baseball cap, which looked like a trucker hat at this point, in hopes of making a better impression.  “Mind you that we DO intend to pay for our purchases here.  And mind you that we DO intend to make purchases.  But… our plans were cancelled today and this happens to be our only stop.”

That seemed to remove the cloud that was forming in, what McMurphy assumed to be, the owner’s, eyes.  “Understandable, friend.”  He turned behind him and called out, “Wifey?  Do you have any of the pastries ready yet?”

“I’m working on them!  I’ll be out in a minute!” yelled the voice McMurphy remembered.

He grinned, “So who you got working back there?  She sounds like a stunner.”

The man in front of him shook his head in amusement as he started turning his coffee machines on.  “That’s my ‘other half’ of this establishment, so to speak.  And I’ve heard many things about her, but you’re the first to say ‘stunner.’  But now that you’ve mentioned it, I think I’d agree.  She’s the best-looking woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, and it’s certainly a privilege since it’s on a daily basis.”  

McMurphy’s grin only got larger; those were some certainly high praises. “Anyone else you got coming in?”

“Oh, no.  It’s just the two of us working here.  It’s not like we can’t afford any other help, but we just like keeping it between us, you see.”

If she was the ten this man was hinting at, McMurphy didn’t blame him for wanting to keep things just between them.  He leaned over, draping his flannel-covered large arms on the black surface, “So instead of a mom-n-pop place, is this a husband and wife joint?  The farmer and his wife?”  McMurphy couldn’t help but howl at his own comments again.  And this time he slammed his fists against the counter for good measure.

The woman McMurphy assumed was working in the back came out in a hurry.  Her red lips curled into a snarl as she snapped, quite coldly, “We’d make a horrible couple.”  And after her quick quip, she clacked back to her coop.

McMurphy was stunned at how blunt she had been.  And he was stunned that she had come and gone so fast that he didn’t even get a good look at her.  “Now you let your woman cuss you out like that in public?”  Perhaps there were _other_ reasons this place just had the two of them employed.

Billy, who had been interested in the many drinks available on the wall, let out a nervous laugh.  And seemed to shrink even further into his sweater, not particularly liking her tone.  She seemed too familiar to him, like so many women that left him shivering and stuttering beyond any ounce of control.  He hoped that she’d stay there in her coop if that’s how she normally was.

But the man put up his hands in defense, “Oh no!  Oh heaven’s no.  We’re not in any way involved.  Our pet names don’t imply what you think it does.”  He let out a breathy laugh, one that gasped and danced on the verge of disappearing at awkward intervals.  “And to think there’s probably some universe out there where we’re hopelessly married to each other.  Bitter and distance and-”

“Unhappy.”  The woman came out with a large platter of flaky croissants and set them down with the rest of the pastries.  She put her hand on his shoulder, “We’d be very unhappy.”

The man shivered, and placed his left hand on top of hers to stop himself.   “I pity them.  Those poor little wretched souls, doomed for divorce.”  They looked into each other’s eyes in shared horror.  But he snapped out of it and looked back to McMurphy and Billy.  “But how rude of us not to introduce ourselves!  I’m Harding and this is the lovely Vera.”

Vera smiled at the both of them, “A pleasure to meet you both.  But if you excuse me again, I still have to bring some food more out.”

McMurphy grinned; he had been right with his assumptions this time.  As she swished back to that room once more, McMurphy watched her black 50s-style pin-up dress hug every bit he loved.  And those heels were something to die for, alright.  He turned to Billy, who was flushing a deep crimson and trying to bury the evidence under all those honey curls of his.  McMurphy couldn’t help but smirk, “I think we’re ready to order now, Harding.  Say, what kind of name is that?”

Harding stepped behind the cash register and turned the machine on.  “It’s my last name, actually.  No one calls me by my first name.  It’s… it’s not fitting for me.  Not anymore.” 

“Hell, no one calls me by my first name neither.  I’m McMurphy - or Mack, if you prefer.  And this is the very handsome Mr. Billy Bibbit.  Now tell this man what you want, Billy.”

Harding visibly winced at the word ‘man.’  He raised one of his hands up, index finger rigidly flexed, “Technically I’m not…”  But then he decided against continuing, lowered his hand, and moved onto another thought.  “You said you’ll be here for three hours?”

“Why yes,” McMurphy continued to lean on the counter.

“Well… I’ll talk to you more about my name and me then.”  He pushed that out of his mind as he turned to Billy, “Now what can I get you?”

“I… I uhh…”  Billy gripped his hands together tight.  “The c-c-c… the cah… the cuh?  I’m not sure I’ll say it right.”

“It’s completely understandable, friend.  Those fancy Italian words tie up the best of us.  You want yourself a cappuccino, don’t you?”

Billy exhaled deeply and smiled, very happy this Harding had understood him.  And more importantly, Harding had reacted with patience instead of exasperation and frustration.  “Yes, sir.  A c-caramel one.”

“What would you like to eat with that?”

Billy pointed to one of the croissants.  “One of those, please.”

“Now I must warn you that Vera’s croissants are a particularly dangerous breed of poison.  You eat one… you keep going back for more.”

Billy’s eyes widened, “R-really?”

“Of course.  Once I had a man eat our entire day’s stock sitting in _that_ corner.”  Harding pointed to the corner that had the stuffed chick.  “But I doubt that will happen to you.”

McMurphy slapped Billy on the back, “But I’m sure that’d be a hell of a way to go.   Death by croissants, huh?  Well Harding, why don’t you get me a large cup of your house brew.  And pair that with that everything bagel right over there and that cheese danish on the other side.”  McMurphy reached into his back pocket to get out his wallet.  “I have a feeling this’ll only be the first round of goods for me.”

Billy protested at McMurphy handing Harding his card.  “Wuh-wait!  You’re not going to p-p-pay for all this, right?”

“Well of _course_ I am, young man.  I always treat you whenever we’re on one of these excursions.  It’s not like you got any money on your person anyway.  Every time I pay; every time you don’t have money; and every time you get a-hootin’ an’ hollerin’ about wanting to pay me back.”  McMurphy ruffled Billy’s hair again.  “But just seeing you again… and seeing you improve… that’s **more** than enough for me.”

 

***

 

Today was actually quite a slow day for Harding and Vera.  There were a few regulars and passers-by, but they were far from operating at full capacity.  So Harding took this as an opportunity to bond with the red-haired and hatted man sitting by himself at one of the tables.  Billy had succumbed to the temptation of Vera’s croissants.  And Vera was further enabling him by taking him into the back to sample some of her other creations.  Harding wanted to protest, but like McMurphy said - it would be a hell of a way to go.  

“You said that Billy’s improving?  What do you mean by that?   Of course you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”  Harding was drinking his own cup of the house brew and had his delicate hands wrapped around the mug.  “You mean by speech?  Confidence?  What?”

McMurphy found himself transfixed by those beautifully sculpted hands for the sixth time in four minutes; he had counted just so he could tell Dolores when he came back to the Ward.  Those hands were far too perfect to belong to any human.  There was something so special about them.  They were works of art.  They belonged in some museum somewhere.  All those classic sculptures without arms probably had Harding’s hands, McMurphy was sure of it.  Of course he dared not tell Harding all that.  He wasn’t sure how Harding would take it.

Instead, McMurphy answered his question, “Actually he’s getting some treatment at the mental hospital.  I’m not sure you could call me a sponsor or a volunteer, but I see Billy for a few hours every week or so.  I try to make him feel as best as he can possibly be.  You see… he’s had a rather rough life.  And he’s one of those types who’s prone to-” McMurphy made slicing motions up and down his big, hairy arms.  It was almost comical seeing himself do… _that_.  The smallest of cuts on Billy’s small wrists wouldn’t even be recognizable on his own.  Or maybe that truth wasn’t comical at all.  He never really noticed how large his arms were compared to Billy’s; three of Billy’s could fit into his.  McMurphy’s chest tightened; the wave of discomfort, the same wave he felt in the car, was back again.  He sipped his coffee and squeezed his cup as tight as his lungs were.

“Now I see.  I’m actually getting some treatment there myself.”  

“You?  Really?”  It came as a shock for McMurphy.  It had taken so much energy for him to share what was happening to Billy [let alone his own problems], and here Harding was sipping and throwing his arms around like it was the most casual topic in the world.  McMurphy was in awe.  “Are you an out-patient?  Because I don’t remember seeing you on any of my trips.”

“You are correct indeed.”  Harding set the mug down and pointed to himself.  “You’re looking at the out-patient extraordinaire.  I go after we close early on Sundays, 6 PM every week.  It’s to deal with my dysphoria… and a myriad of other issues… toward other genders.”

McMurphy scrunched his nose in confusion, causing his scar to puff out, “What do you mean by that?”

There went that breathy laugh of his again.  “When you called me a ‘man’ earlier… that’s not entirely correct.”

“Well then, what are you?”  McMurphy shrugged and laughed.  

“Genderqueer - although right now, I’m being rather fluid with my pronouns.  It was Dolores’ suggestion, actually.  She’s such a lovely woman.”  Harding started fiddling with his hands as his voice rose and fell.  “I don’t suppose you know what ‘genderqueer’ is, or even what pronouns _really_ are, but… I’m just not like you.”

McMurphy’s voice dropped, hushed and serious, “How so?”

“You were judged right when you came out of the womb that you were a boy.  You were content with that.  Whereas me… I’ve always struggled.”  Harding showed McMurphy the hands the red-head was so transfixed with.  “The first thing I felt dysphoria toward were these.  I wanted to cut them off from my body.  They… they were too pretty for ‘a boy.’  I was teased mercilessly by my classmates, even by my parents.  I used to pick at them, scratch at them – anything to make them more ‘manly.’  And when all the boys hit puberty, got their muscles and filled out just like you, I stayed the same size.  I became… even more beautiful, much to my own chagrin.”

Harding folded his hands into his chest.  “There were times… there were many _bad_ times.  I didn’t fit in with the men, but I definitely didn’t fit in with the women – who I hated for an entirely different reason.”  He laughed in self-disgust, “I used to be a very bitter man – and an ignorant one.  I insisted that I was ‘hen-pecked by the world.’  That my mother and other women had made me this way.  That these women were stealing my masculinity, forcing their power over me, stripping me of my very existence in this world.  That this was _their_ fault.That there was someone to _fault_ in the first place.” 

Harding shook his head, in disbelief at his younger self.  “But much to my own surprise, after some much-needed therapy and self-realization… I was never fully masculine to begin with.  And I shouldn’t blame these women, many of whom I pushed away when all they did was show me affection.  Many of whom genuinely cared about me, but I treated them like absolute filth.  Many of whom, quite frankly, never should have been around me when I was younger.  But… I grew in their presence and their absence.  And I started to accept myself for who I was and who I am.  I’ll never be ‘normal’ like everyone wants me to be, but… I don’t want what _they_ want.  I never want to be unhappy with myself again.  Or empty.  Or desperate.  Never again.”  

He put his elbows on the table and smiled at the out-stretched fingers in front of him, “I can look at me and admire me for who I am.  Of course, it’s taken a long time to get to this point.”  Harding shrugged those narrow shoulders as he admitted, “But I’m far from perfect.  I slip up sometimes.”

“Not to interrupt you,” McMurphy, a normally talkative man, had remained completely silent for however long Harding had rambled on for, “Harding but uh, that’s why I’m here with Billy today.”  He took out the pocketbook.  “You see, I was supposed to have a more _involved_ day with Billy.  But the main nurse, you know the one, she said that I needed to tone it down.  That because of the incident… Billy shouldn’t be exposed to that kind of ‘excitement.’”

Harding looked at the plan that did not come to pass and shook his head yet again, “No wonder Nurse Ratched didn’t approve of this.  You thought you could slip this past her?”

McMurphy shrugged sheepishly, “It was worth a shot.”

Harding looked behind him to steal a glance at the back room, but Billy and Vera weren’t visible.  “Is he going to be alright?  Should he not be around knives?”

“Oh no!  I’m sure he’s fine.”  Although McMurphy bit the inside of his lip and chastised himself, ‘I honestly don’t know.  I should have asked him, or Dolores, or hell even ol’ Ratched.’  But he assumed that Billy would be fine.  He hadn’t shown any of the signs, like before.

But Harding leaned in closer and narrowed his gaze, “I need you to give me a solid answer, Mack.  I want Billy to be safe, as well as Vera.”

McMurphy shivered after being called his nickname.  It sounded so _right_ rolling off of Harding’s tongue, floating over like a gentle breeze.  It took him a little bit to recover and answer back, “Yeah… it was… it was only a slip-up; just a tiny cut.  But… it was the first one in a very long time.”  McMurphy lowered his gaze and looked at his own callused hands.  “I remember when he was… he was **really** bad.  I’ve seen him make so much progress.  He keeps telling me how much he’s inspired by me, but the truth is - I’m a hell of a lot more inspired by him.  That kid’s become my world now.  I’m so damn proud of him.”

Harding nodded slowly, taking in every word.  He placed his fingers closer to McMurphy’s side of the table, blushing a bit.  “I’m so happy you’re there for him.  You do him a lot of good.  And not everyone has someone like you in their life.”  Harding wanted to admit _“I wish I had someone like you in my life,”_ but he bit his tongue and retracted his hands.

“The Big Nurse doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Oh to **hell** with her sometimes,” Harding flipped his right hand for a bit of dramatic effect.  “The only person I really trust in that place is Dolores.  Especially since she made me one of her famous sweaters.  She even made it my favorite color - maroon.”

McMurphy slammed his fist to the table and pouted.  “Seems to me like I’m the only one who doesn’t have one of those damn sweaters.  I don’t wanna have to commit just to get one.  All I’m asking is just _one_.  She can even make it have little pink kittens on it, for chrissake.”  McMurphy shoved the last bit of cheese danish in his mouth and mumbled, “An’ I thought we were friends.”

Harding shook his head and laughed at the wild-eyed hooligan in front of him.  Then he looked at his hands now resting on his lap, thumbs swirling around each other in what looked like a lover’s dance.

 

***

 

“B-but you make all of this… by yourself?”  Billy was amazed at the massive kitchen crammed into the tiny room.  He was also in awe at how many of the samples he had already eaten.  The Dolores sweater was getting rather tight around his waist.

“I like it that way.  Harding calls it a ‘strict division of labor,’ but… I just don’t like other people messing with my baking.  Even him.  Especially with the cupcakes.”  Vera gave him a small box, “I really shouldn’t be forcing you to eat all this… but I can’t help it.  You’re such a tiny little thing and it’s activating the little maternal instincts I have.”  She shrugged, “I’ll have to alert Harding.  We were under the impression that I didn’t have _any_.”

Billy opened the pink box and gasped at its contents, “I-is this red velvet?” 

“Yes.  Are they your fav-?  Oh!  It seems it’s already gone.”  Vera couldn’t help but beam at Billy demolishing the cupcake.  She giggled and wiped a little bit of frosting from Billy’s upper lip with a finger.  “You really are cute, you know that?”

He blushed and ducked his head again to look at her heels instead of her lovely, intricate eye make-up.  He had no idea how women could line their eyes with such precision.  Dolores wore some make-up when she was on duty sometimes, but never to this degree.  Of course if Dolores tried, the Big Nurse would probably force her to wash it all off, but Vera’s was remarkable nonetheless.  Vera looked just like those high-end models – like from the photo clippings Cheswick sneaked into his room sometimes.  But now here she was calling _him_ cute.  “N-now I w-wouldn’t say that.”  She certainly was a “stunner,” like McMurphy had said.  And Harding was right when he had called her one of the prettiest women he had ever seen.  And she, looking like that, was being far too nice to him, looking and acting like… himself.

Vera shook her head disapprovingly, “But less of _that_.  Modesty is cute for some girls, but… I won’t have this level of self-effacement around me.  And what’s happening is probably beyond the spectrum of self-effacing.”  She tipped Billy’s head up.  “I want you to have more confidence in yourself.  You were telling me about that McMurphy; that’s what he wants you to be, right?  Confident?  More sure of yourself?”  She washed her hands after touching Billy and dried them on a red towel.  “So trust me on this one - the next girl you see who enters into the shop, I want you to promise me that you’re not going to duck your head down, or curl your hands up your sweater, or even look away.  For any reason.  I want you to look her right in the eyes.  You think you can do that?”

“I c-can try.”  Billy clasped his hands, quite nervous.  “I… I get… dif-different around women.”

Vera picked up a plate of chocolate chip cookies to take out to the front.  She turned around to assure Billy, very softly, “You seem to be doing just fine with me.”  She giggled as she clacked past him, “And you’re blushing again.”

 

***

 

He hadn’t been paying attention to what Harding had been saying… for a long time now.  McMurphy was quite ashamed of himself; he was usually the textbook definition of an attentive listener.  But now… he couldn’t help but get lost in… Harding’s everything.

McMurphy had never seen anyone as beautiful as the human being in front of him.  It just wasn’t damn fair.  And here he was, selfishly sitting with him instead of checking in with Billy.  This was supposed to be _Billy’s_ chance to get hooked up with someone, not his!

Harding noticed that McMurphy was in another space entirely, “What seems to be bothering you, friend?  Do you need me to touch up your coffee?”

“Oh?  That?  No…”  He looked worriedly at the back room.  The two of them hadn’t come out for a long time.

“If you’re worried about Vera’s feminine wiles, let me assure you that she _can_ behave herself.  I’m not sure your friend can around all that inventory, however,” Harding chuckled and took the last sip of his coffee.  “If you’re feeling guilty, don’t be.”

“I just… he’s supposed to be in my care.”

“Oh yes.  Naturally, liability issues and the like.”

“... You know what I mean.”

“Oh.  In fact, yes.  Yes.  I do.”  Harding leaned back in his chair and tipped it back and forth.  “No offense, but it’s a wonder she was able to trust you with him in the first place.”  But after that retort, he leaned violently forward to assure his new friend, “Don’t mistake that as me slandering your character!  Rather… this is me pointing out that she usually has a firmer grasp on these matters.”

“I still don’t have her trust, if that’s what you mean.”  McMurphy took off his hat and started to beat some of the layers of crusted life off of it.  Anything to keep from looking at Harding’s face.  Or the lines of his throat.  Or his curved shoulders in that shirt.  And certainly not his hands.  “It took a war to get him out of the Ward today.”

“I can only imagine.  But like I said, he’s lucky to have you.  And I’m fortunate that he was the cause of your visit today.”  He winced, “I hope that didn’t come out wrong.”

“No.  Not at all.”  McMurphy leaned in closer.  “I’m happy we came here too.  I’m almost damn thankful the Big Nurse disallowed the rest of those plans.”

“Really?”  Harding decided to inch his hands closer to McMurphy’s side of the table.

This time McMurphy noticed.  He put his faded cap back on his head and put Harding’s hands in his.  They were a lot softer than he had imagined.  He laughed at how soft they were, and he laughed at how hard he was blushing.  The heat was rising to his face; he probably looked like Billy when he saw Vera the second time.  This was all so ridiculous.  He was never like this with anyone before.  Of course, he had never met anyone like Harding before.

“Are you going to be coming back?” Harding’s voice barely reached him, barely even a whisper.  “Or is this your first and only visit?”

“I think… I think we’ll be back again.  Or at the very least, me.  I don’t want Billy to eat you out of house and home now,” he winked at Harding.  “But yeah.  I’ll be back.”  He was too smitten not to come back.

 

***

 

Vera finally kicked Billy out of the kitchen.  Partly because she still needed things to sell, and partly because she wanted him to start the challenge she had posed him earlier. 

Billy walked out and ruffled his hair.  It seemed that Vera and Mack had the same agenda – assuring him that he was good-looking and getting him a nice girl.  He was about to tell McMurphy about his time with Vera, but then Billy saw the sight developing at the table.

Billy considered McMurphy his brother now, the older brother he never had and desperately needed as a child.  They had spent many hours together [systematically logged and filled away, with some of them uncomfortably supervised], but Billy felt they had spent a lifetime together.  Sometimes he strained to remember the horrible past before McMurphy.  The home life was a nightmare he had thankfully woken up from, and if this time with McMurphy was a dream, Billy prayed that he’d never wake up.

But in all that time spent with Mack, Billy had never seen his brother look at another human being the same way he was looking at Harding now.  And it was surprising.  He knew a lot about McMurphy’s sexual exploits [most of them women] and yet… nothing like this.  There the two of them were, holding hands and tuning out the rest of the world around them; caught up in each other’s eyes, hearts and lungs beating and breathing in sync.

He was happy for McMurphy.  Although he wouldn’t admit it openly to his hero, he often felt guilty.  McMurphy had a few odd jobs [the only employment he could get, given his record] and didn’t always have time for himself.  Most of his “free time” was spent on the Ward.  And McMurphy replaced the mantra “Treat yourself” with “Treat Billy” and spoiled him whenever he could.  But now McMurphy was finally having time for himself.  And Billy would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined his friend’s shot at happiness.  Never.

But… the café was almost deserted.  He needed to be stimulated.  He needed to get his fill of “fun for the whole family” – or at least social interactions besides McMurphy and the other patients.

So he walked outside and inhaled the late morning air.  There were a few tables and chairs outside underneath some patio umbrellas.  Billy chose the one closest to the door and sat down.  He pulled the pocket watch McMurphy had purchased last month when they decided to go thrifting as their fieldtrip [which Nurse Ratched was not all too thrilled about, given the ‘character’ of those who frequent such places.]  They only had thirty more minutes left until they were due back at the Ward.  Billy bit his lip.  It didn’t seem like he had enough time to talk to anyone.

Billy closed his eyes and let the sun kiss his face.  Fine.  He could still enjoy himself without people.  He didn’t get a lot of quality alone time on the Ward, especially after the incident.  He knew that the nurses meant well but… was it too much to ask if they could leave him alone to piss?  Honestly, he would be alright.  The urges hadn’t come back.  He was fine.  They left as quickly as they had come.  Honestly… he would be alright.

Billy pulled up his left sleeve and peered at the bandaged flesh.  He would be fine.  He would be fine.  _He would be fine._

“Excuse me!  Hey you!  Sitting down!  Could I have some help over here?”

Billy opened his eyes, “Wh-who said that?”

“Me, silly!”  The yells were coming from a woman with light pink hair [and the shortest shorts Billy had ever seen] in the parking lot.  “Hi!”  She waved her sandaled foot at him, trying to get his attention while struggling to hold a box of what looked like… puppies?

Billy ran over to her.  “Wh-what’s with all the puppies?  And I-I’ll take that.”

The woman handed him the rather hefty box full of six scrambling puppies.  Billy didn’t know what breed they were, and honestly it didn’t matter.  She pulled down her white tank top that had been riding up after holding the box [which made Billy swallow uncomfortably] and let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you so much!  I’m hoping I can find some of them some homes.  Turns out my dog is as big a whore as I am.”

Billy gasped, “D-don’t say that about yourself!”

But the woman only laughed.  “Oh no, dearie.  It’s not insulting; it’s my job.  I have no shame in that.”  She started to walk to The Roost and looked behind, waiting for Billy to follow her. 

“Oh-oh.”  Billy didn’t mean to break his promise to Vera, but he had put himself in such a painfully embarrassing moment.  So much that he had to break eye contact and hide in his hair.

“Don’t be sorry for me, babe!”  The woman slowed her pace so that she was walking right beside him.  “It’s fine.  And you’re honestly taking it a lot better than some of the other men I’ve met outside of the job.” 

When they reached the outside of the café, the woman pointed her foot to the table he had been sitting at.  “I’m not really allowed to go inside with them because of all those health rules and whatever, but Vera said that it was okay for me to be out here.” 

Billy set the box underneath the shaded table and sat down across from her.  “Gr-great.”

The woman narrowed her eyes and stared at Billy, “I haven’t seen you around here before.  Is this your first time coming to The Roost?”

Billy nodded rapidly, hair flying everywhere.  He knew that Vera wanted him to stay confident, but it was eroding away faster than he had scarfed down that cupcake.  This lady was just as pretty, in a different way.  She wasn’t as elegant as Vera was, with her intricately styled hair, red lipstick, and heels; but this one had another look that intrigued him in a different way.  Everything about her was so confident, young, and joyous.  He was captivated.

“Well alright then!”  She leaned in and offered him her hand.  “I’m Candy, by the way.”

“Billy.”  He shook it and turned the color of her hair.  Candy giggled at this.

“You are just too damn adorable.”  She then squatted down to look at the puppies, “Just like the rest of you little rascals.  Oh I wish I could keep you, but things are tight as it is.”

Billy crouched down right beside her and looked at all the pups.  Each one was certainly different and even up close like this, he couldn’t determine what breed [or probably _breeds_ ] they were.  But there was one in the back ducking away from Candy.  He had settled on curling his shaggy blond tuffs into the side of the box, enjoying a little snooze.  Billy couldn’t help but melt when he looked at him.  “Th-that one over there.  Does he have a name?”

“Oh no.  None of them have names.”  She sheepishly laughed and pushed the tag rubbing uncomfortably against her neck back down.  “I’ve been referring to them as numbers.  Back there is number six.  He’s the quietest out of all of them.  He’s the runt so they pick on him a lot.  Sometimes he doesn’t get as much food as the others.”  She rubbed the two closest to her hands as she kept looking at puppy number six.  “Are you interested in him?”

Billy kept looking at the shaggy mess of fur.  He was about to open his mouth to say yes, but then he remembered who he _really_ was.  Candy probably assumed that he was the type of man McMurphy was describing earlier – one of those young guys with the hipster aesthetic dropping by on coffee shops; a bit shy, but in a mysterious and alluring way.  But he was far from that.  He didn’t live in some fancy apartment; he lived in the Ward.  He didn’t meet friends at the newest dives and bars; he met with his fellow patients during group therapy sessions.  Apart from the sweaters that Dolores made, and the few things from home his mother would send, he didn’t own many clothes; he stayed in the hospital’s t-shirts and slacks, sometimes feeling like a prisoner with a number stamped on his back.  And his mental health wasn’t a trend or a gimmick, or a way to appeal to women he was interested in; this was all painfully real.  The bandages he was hiding under his sleeves were proof enough of that.

News like that deserved telling Candy right to her face.  He wanted to do Vera proud.  He wanted to assert himself one last time before he went back to the Ward.  And one last time before Candy lost interest in him for good.  “I… I can’t.  I live in a place… where they don’t allow dogs.”

“Oh, I see.”  Candy nodded in understanding.  “I used to live in a situation like that.”

“Nuh-no.”  He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want her to look at him like some sort of freak – like they _all_ did.  Billy trembled and bit his lip and hoped to hell that he had the strength McMurphy was so sure he had.  “I… I stay at the mental hospital.  I’m a p-p-patient there.”  That wasn’t so bad.  Now he had to wait for Candy to react.

She frowned, but not for the reason Billy expected, “You’d think they’d want a service dog to help everyone.”  She picked up one of the puppies and cradled him in her lap, “I mean who could resist a little face like that?”  She tickled underneath his chin and rocked him back and forth, “I’d feel better after seeing this.”

“The B-B-Big Nurse in charge doesn’t want us around animals.  P-people are allergic and she doesn’t w-w-want them to feel more un-c-comfortable than they are.” 

Candy rolled her eyes, but admitted, “Well, I guess I can understand.  But in other places, service dogs visit all the time.”  She set the puppy down, “It’s not your fault, of course, but it’s a shame.”  She looked back at puppy number six, “I’m not a professional or anything, but… he looks so much like you.  And you’d both do each other some good.”

Billy nodded sadly.  He stared at his knuckles and looked at all the tiny little grooves there.  What now?  The small spurts of confidence from earlier seemed gone.  All the energy seemed zapped from his system, all because of Nurse Ratched’s stance on pets.  He didn’t want to welcome in the dark thoughts, but they started to dance into his mind.  And he looked at his wrists worriedly.

He might have done something, scratched himself maybe, but Candy’s excited voice snapped him out of it.  “You’re in luck!  Your favorite is waking up back there.”  She reached in and plucked puppy number six out of his favorite spot.  “There you are!”  He yawned loudly and blinked his still-sleepy eyes.

Billy clenched his lips together in anticipation.  “Can I hold him?  I-I’ll be going soon, but I j-just want to hold him.”

“Go ahead!”  Candy giggled, “Maybe seeing a cute guy holding a puppy will help them all get adopted.”

Billy was thankful that puppy number six was blocking his face, because he had turned the color of Randle P. McMurphy’s famous locks.

 

***

 

McMurphy was surprised to find Billy outside.  He was even more surprised to find Billy outside playing with a puppy.  He was very much surprised to find Billy outside, one hand on the puppy’s head, and the other holding the hand of someone who looked very familiar.

McMurphy ran outside, almost yanking Harding’s arm out of his socket [McMurphy had entirely forgotten that they had been holding hands themselves], and exclaimed, “Why, Candy!  I didn’t know you would be in the neighborhood this fine afternoon!  Or else I would’ve been better dressed.”  He took off the fraying cap, smoothed his hair, and gave her a corny little wink.

“Why McMurphy, you know you never have to get dressed up for ol’ Candy.”  She gave him a wink of her own, “I’ve seen you at _all_ states of dress and undress.”  She looked up, expecting Billy to be bright red and embarrassed, but was greeted to pink-faced and shaking sight for an entirely different reason.

Billy was biting his lip to keep from waking the other puppies up with his laughter.  He had certainly heard a few stories from McMurphy and knew that it was “the damn truth,” as Mack himself would say.  A few exhales sharply escaped his nostrils, but he was otherwise quiet.  Candy giggled and grinned, “Well it’s _true_.  _Hush you_.”

McMurphy looked back at Harding worriedly, hoping that their small little back-and-forth hadn’t ruined what had recently developed back in the café.  But Harding merely shook his head and waved at Candy, who had recovered from her little outburst, “I wish you the best of luck, my dear.  It seems that you already have one puppy accounted for.”

But the once bubbly mood evaporated; Candy and Billy frowned.

“Oh dear.”  Harding noted the look of disappointment, and more importantly _panic_ , developing on Billy’s face.  “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?  It’s a habit of mine, for which I must apologize.”

“N-no.  It’s just…”  Billy kissed the pup on the head.  “The Ward’s rules, that’s all.”

McMurphy crossed his arms, deep in thought.  He tapped his foot and looked up at the sun overhead.  He didn’t care if it burned his eyes out; he needed to make this right.  Finally, and with a great big stomp of his right foot that nearly made the earth shake, he proclaimed, “Why don’t I take him?”

Billy was flabbergasted.  He opened his mouth and babbled.  “I-I-I wh-what?  M-M-M-Mack?”

“Nah, I’m serious now.”  McMurphy crouched alongside the two of them.  “I’ll offer to take one.  Then when it’s time for your visitation hours, you can come and see the both of us.  How does that sound?”

“B-b-b-but Mack a d-d-d-dog is a lot to take care of!  Y-y-you do so m-m-much for me already.”  Billy was about to cry.  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He even pinched himself on the cheek to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.  And he wasn’t.  McMurphy was too damn good to him.  “D-d-do you mean it?”

McMurphy put his hand on Billy’s bony back, underneath all that sweater, “I mean it, Billy-boy.  I want you to name him and everything.  I might be takin’ care of him, but he’s **yours**.”

Billy turned around and gave McMurphy the deepest hug he had ever bestowed another human being.  McMurphy wrapped his arms around Billy tight.

Candy smiled at the two of them.  And it finally clicked in her head.  _This_ was the Billy that McMurphy had talked to her about all those nights ago.  The little brother he never really had.  The young man that had been given a hard life, harder than anyone could possibly deserve.  The young man who McMurphy dedicated all his time and devotion toward, just to see him get better.  She flicked a few tears out of her eyes.  She would deny them if McMurphy asked, of course.  There were just a few flies flying around the puppies, and one of them happened to fly directly into her eye.  Repeatedly.

And Harding’s heart skipped a beat seeing the support McMurphy had for Billy.  Billy certainly _was_ fortunate to have a man as great as McMurphy in his life.  Harding didn’t expect their budding relationship [or whatever he hoped was starting between them] to be anywhere near close to this.  Billy was someone very special to McMurphy, and Harding would never ask Mack to choose between the two of them.  Hell, the partnership McMurphy and Billy had… it reminded him of his relationship with Vera.  They certainly did love each other, just as McMurphy loved Billy, but it wasn’t the same love Harding wanted out of McMurphy.  That was different.  Harding hoped that, in time, another important bond could be formed between him and the muscled flannel-wearing man with the frayed cap and the twinkle in his eyes and the big hands.  Maybe.  But he still had a business to run.  As soon as Billy and McMurphy released their mutual embrace, Harding dipped back into the café.  He didn’t need to say good-bye.  He knew that McMurphy would be back again.  He had promised, after all.  And a man like that didn’t back down from his promises.

“Now remember, Billy – a name is the most important thing a man has; you can’t go back on that name.  Make it important.”

“Buddy,” he answered immediately.  Billy knew that it sounded dumb.  He knew that it was a common name.  He knew that there wasn’t anything special about it, but that’s what he needed right now – a buddy, besides McMurphy.  And he knew that this small little pup, one that had been picked on by all the rest, needed a buddy too. 

McMurphy picked up Billy’s puppy and cooed, “Well then!  Hello there, Buddy!”

 

***

 

They were right outside the doors, ten minutes early.  Billy stood there, holding his puppy, not wanting to go back in and face reality.  He wanted to be back with Candy, who before they left, had given him a kiss on the cheek that set McMurphy and all the other puppies howling.  And him quite speechless.  And it gave McMurphy the idea that their next fieldtrip should be to Candy’s club, but keeping all of this “Off the official agenda and between us gentlemen _only_ , ya understand?”

“M-Mack?”  He felt so small now, smaller than Buddy and his wee little paws in his shaking hands.

“Yeah?”  McMurphy had a toothpick working between his molars.  He was thinking about his reason to go back.  Unfortunately, he hadn’t been bestowed the Hollywood good-bye from Harding.  Hell, he felt bad for not peeking back in to bid him and Vera adieu, but… it was too late now.  He had promised himself back with Dolores that he would stop by Big Chief Bromden, and he intended to keep that.  He’d pop on by, sit on the porch, and chew the fat with him – along with Chief’s favorite gum, which he always stashed in his glove box just in case.

Buddy leaned up to lick Billy’s chin.  Billy appreciated the gesture, because his thoughts were a mess.  He wanted to say so much to Mack.  He wanted to thank him for everything today was.  What should have been destined to be a failure, after the Big Nurse’s ruling, turned into his favorite outing so far.  He was so happy to have met Candy, Vera, and Harding.  And he was so fortunate to get his fill on all the unhealthy food Nurse Ratched scorned. 

Billy wanted to thank him for **all** the trips they had taken.  He wanted to thank him the first time McMurphy had noticed him across the room, the tiny little thing huddled in the corner, ducking his arms away from the grinning and laughing man in absolute shame.  He wanted to thank him for their first meeting, when McMurphy held his shaking hands in his and assured Billy that he would get better – that he would make _damn sure_ of that.  He wanted to thank Mack for his continued faith in him, faith that Billy often times thought was foolish and misplaced.  He wanted to thank McMurphy for constantly assuring him of his worth, and not just his looks – but confidence in his appearance was something that never came easy for him, and he was especially thankful for McMurphy’s aggressive repeating that he was **handsome** , damnit.  He was thankful for all the hugs and all the drinks.  He was thankful to go bowling, fishing, antiquing, drifting, competitive eating… everything mundane, reckless, and all that fell in between.  All the time spent between them was a luxury so many on the Ward didn’t have [but McMurphy was working to change that].  Billy was granted the privilege of feeling “normal” for once – doing all the things men his age did with their friends.  McMurphy helped him **live** beyond the walls of the Ward, plain and simple.

Billy wanted to be eloquent, like Harding and the words that weaved and flowed so easily out of his lips, but he just couldn’t.  All he could manage was a tentative, “Thank you so much.”

But McMurphy knew it all.  Billy didn’t have to say anything; the tears dripping down his face [and licked up by Buddy’s pink little tongue] were more than enough for McMurphy.  He didn’t need a novel of thanks; it took too much time and he was never that big of a reader anyways.  And the thanks Billy thought was tentative resounded loud and clear in his ears.  It was clear and confident, free of any stumble or stutter; it was the best Billy had sounded all day.  He truly was coming along.  And all of these strides were happening on the backs of _the incident_.  Progress couldn’t have come at a better time.

It took all the strength McMurphy had in that big body of his to keep from sobbing in front of Billy, and all the cameras that Big Nurse had installed surveying the property.  All those cameras aimed right up his nostrils, hoping to record any weakness or phoniness; hoping to catch McMurphy with his pants down, proof that he was a scorn to Billy and the rest of the Ward.  But what had they recorded all those months?  Absolutely nothing incriminating or inappropriate.  And with all of their footage they _still_ had the nerve to question whether this all was sincere?  He just couldn’t fucking believe it. 

After experiencing his own rush of emotions and thoughts, McMurphy tipped his cap to Billy, the light of his life.  “You are most welcome, Billy Bibbit.  You are most damn welcome.”


End file.
